The Decisions we make
by LilyAurora
Summary: He does what he has to do. He does it to save them all.


The Decisions we make

By LilyAurora

o-o-o-o-o

You stand there body limp, slumped against the tree. Hands held in front of your face as you watched the red liquid trail between your fingers, working its way down your palms before disappearing beneath your hoodie. It was thicker than you imagined, like paint, but not quite. It's nothing like the movies, there's no fountain of excessive liquid, no explosion of body parts. Just this sickening thud when the body collapsed to the ground as you stand over him, hands covered in his blood.

You can't help yourself but watch as it runs down your hands. Your dirty hands. Murderers hands. You killed someone. Another human you think, but you're not too sure but he's dead. You know why you did it, you know you had too, but can you live with the fact that you actually took another life. Regardless of what may have happened, of who was in danger. Can you wrap your head around and live with the fact that you killed someone.

No.

You don't think you can.

You're a good kid. Such a fucking good kid. You help anyone and everyone even if you don't like them, you try to be there for them, your father, your best friend, your alpha, your pack. You stretch yourself so far and too thinly. But you can't do everything because you are just human. You have limits. A line you never cross. The killing is done by the wolves, they protect the pack, the land, you. But this time you were the one who had to protect them. You were the only one who could save them all.

And you did it. You saved them.

But still your hands are covered in blood. Such a deep red. You can feel it running down your forearms now. Reaching the crease of your elbow. You touch your fingers together watching as it kind of sticks but doesn't. Blood such a strange liquid. A life source. Or was in this case. It once ran through the veins of the dead hunter. But now creates a pool at your feet. You shuffle back slightly, body pressed further against the tree. Your converse are white so you don't want blood on them, but then you realize. They already do.

"Stiles?"

You look towards the voice, your friend your best friend. He's stood there staring at you, eyes scanning making sure you're OK, that it's not your blood.

"Hey, what happened?" Scott asks quietly, calmly. Like he's talking to one of the scared animals in the vets.

You don't answer. Just cock your head and watch him move quietly forward.

"Stiles." He tries again.

The others come then. Beaten and scratched but alive. And you're so happy, so fucking happy they are OK.

"What the hell?" Derek whispers eyes wide as he takes in the body in the floor and the chaos all around. "Stiles." He chokes out moving forward only to be stopped by Scott.

"Did you do this Stiles?" Scott calls out. Looking lost as he stares at the boy before him.

"Blood." Is all you say.

"Blood? Yes there's blood, a lot of blood Stiles. What did you do, what happened?" Isaac whispers as he stands next to Scott.

"Had too." You pick at the drying blood, watch as it flakes to the ground disappearing between the rotting leaves and moss.

"Stiles." It's Peter who calls out this time, moving forward a fraction.

You freeze, fingers halting their mission. You watch as he comes closer. Head tilted. His hands are spread out wide in front of him, he's taking cautious careful steps, trying not to spook you.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You shake your head. "Good." He genuinely seems relieved. But this is Peter and Peter doesn't care about anyone.

"Hunter." You say nodding towards the lifeless body.

"He was a Hunter?" Erica repeats. "We didn't see this one, where the hell did he come from?" She shouts at no one.

"He must have slipped past us at some point. Held back to come around from behind. Take us by surprise." Boyd adds, kicking at the bow on the ground.

"Did you see him Stiles?" Peter asks, still moving painfully slow towards the younger man.

You nod once.

"So you decided to go after him yourself?" Derek shouts, stepping forward. Which only has you moving further back, digging your way into the tree branches.

"Derek!" Peter snaps. The younger man calms a little, nodding to his uncle. You know Derek isn't angry at you, OK maybe a little. But he's more angry at the fact you could have been hurt or killed and he wouldn't have been able to save you. Not this time. They were too far away. He would never have reached you.

"You did what you had to do." Peter whispers. "We understand that Stiles, we do. But out of all of us, you are the most at risk. Not because you're human. But because you are our glue. You hold us all together. Each one of us is connected to you and if anything were to happen." He chokes on his words. Emotions you have never seen, etched on his face, eyes wide, panicked slightly with images of what could have been.

"Had too." You whisper, still picking at the blood.

"Stiles." Peters hand wrap around your own but you continue to pick at the blood.

"Had too." You shout, fingernails digging into your flesh.

"Stop." He tries. Fingers tight around your own but you still manage to dig at your skin.

"Derek." He calls out, needing help to calm you.

Derek's hands are warm, familiar. Your movements stutter for a moment, just enough for them to prise them away from your skin.

"Stiles it's OK, you're OK." Derek whispers as he presses in next to you.

"Derek?"

"Yeah it's me I'm here, we're all here." He rambles on as he pulls you free from the branches, twigs scrapping at your skin; leaving bloody trails.

You look around suddenly aware of everyone. Derek's hands are holding you tight. So are Peter's. Your eyes drift to the body on the ground, the pool of blood and the dagger not a foot away.

"You did what you had to," Peter repeated.

"Stiles." Scott took a step forward.

"I'm fine." You say. Feet unsteady as they lead you away.

Derek pulls you against him, you sink into his side, thankful for the warmth. You feel numb, chilled to the bone. You don't know if it's due to the hunter you just killed or the cold night air. You think it's a mixture of both. You always knew this time would come. Where you would have to kill in order to save.

"What happened?" Derek asked as he manoeuvres you onto a fallen tree trunk. Peter is still close beside you, hands hovering as if he wants to touch you. Needs too. You take one of his hands in your own, along with one of Derek's.

You stare out into the forest. Trying to find the words. The right words to explain what you've done.

"He didn't see me when he walked into the forest. I had climbed into the big oak not far from the house. You told me to stay safe." You turned to Derek, who nodded. "I was worried they would come into the house, do something drastic, stupid." Burn it you wanted to scream, but they knew what you meant. "So I climbed the tree, its dense enough to hide me if you're not looking. So I sat, waited and listened. I could hear everything what was going on, the fighting the screams. Everything. Then I saw him, he ran right beneath me, bow in hand. And I knew you didn't know he was there. He must have been waiting, or it was their plan all along. God knows. But he was headed straight for you. And I couldn't let him get to you. I couldn't let him hurt any of you." Your words are rushed, slightly jumbled, but they understand what happened.

"How did you manage to sneak up on him?" Scott asked moving closer towards you.

You shrug.

"Stiles?" Derek warns.

You pick at the blood before fingers interlock with your own.

"I just did. He thought everyone was already at the clearing, he didn't realize someone was left behind. He wasn't being very quiet, so his noise covered my own."

"Did you sneak up on him?"

You turn away refusing to answer.

"Stiles what happened?" Peter is the one asking now and you can't help but look at him, see the concern in his eyes, the edge to his tone. He's worried about you.

"I did what I had to do."

"The training worked?" He questioned.

You just look at him as a smile spreads across his face.

"What training? Who's been training you?" Derek demands.

"I have," Peter answers. "He needed to be able to protect himself, in case something like this was ever to happen."

"He should have come to me." Derek roars. Eyes flashing as he looks between the pair.

"He tried, you refused. Told him you would take care of him, that you would always be there for him." Peter answers.

"You head that?" Derek questions as he looks at Stiles.

"I hear everything." Peter smiles sadly.

"You had no right." Derek's anger rages as thoughts of what could have been run through his mind. That it's Stiles' body on the ground and not the hunters. Stiles who is no longer breathing, laughing or touching him. He squeezes his eyes tight willing the images away.

"I have ever right, if it means keeping people alive. I will do what I refused to do before, be a better man. I was a poor excuse for an alpha, an uncle but if I can rectify that somehow then I will, he wanted training, needed it and I helped him. I will not apologize for that." Peter snaps.

"He doesn't trust you." Scott calls out.

"I didn't, now I do." You shrug eyes pleading with your friend to understand.

"You should have asked me," Derek sounds defeated, tired.

"I tried." You smile sadly.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened." His hands are warm on you, fingers gentle as they run across your skin.

"It doesn't matter now." You reply leaning into him a little more. Seeking his warmth, his love.

"But if Peter didn't..."

"But he did," You cut him off. "And I'm fine." You say looking from one to another.

"Are you?" Isaac whispers. Knowing how hard being fine really is.

"I will be." You reply, finally making a clean patch so your white skin shines through. "I will be."


End file.
